Black and White
by jedimasterathena
Summary: Tara was a pirate until circumstance shanghaied her into her position as an Imperial Privateer. Ever since, she has been searching for her ticket to freedom. When she captures Maris, who survived Order 66, her prayers might just be answered. But the heart does not deal in absolutes and the universe isn't written in Black and White.
1. Chapter 1

**Black and White**

A _Star Wars_ fan novella

JediMasterAthena

Coruscant

3 years after the Battle of Yavin

Captain Tara Nyine, imperial privateer, knew better than to flash her insignia while swimming in the acidic gut of Coruscant's undercity. Legally, no one could oppose her; but that was merely law. The first casualty of war was the boundary between right and wrong. So, she wore a grimace instead and pulled her hood tighter over her head. Besides, she wanted this to be taken care of as efficiently and silently as possible.

Tara had just gotten word from one of her moles that major goings on were stirring up excitement within the rebel factions that were still able to find sanctuary so close to the core. Apparently, an exchange of some sort was to take place between the rebels here on Coruscant and those based on Corellia. A "rebel treasure" had been the exact phrase used by the plant.

As always, Tara's pirating past had proven tremendously useful in her current line of work. If this operation was successful, there was little doubt in her mind that the Moff would be pleased.

Smiling slightly, she pulled her comm from her belt and hailed her ship, _The Paratta_.

"Spinner, do you copy?"

A myriad of beeps and whistles was her reply.

"Spinner, I need to you to log into database security. I need the names and codes of all vessels that have left within the past six hours with a history of insurgency or affiliation with the Rebel Alliance."

Her astromech responded with an affirmative _bleep_ and communication closed. Planning her next move, Tara strode towards the hangar.

The Rebel alliance had a treasure now. How interesting. Not long ago, the alliance suffered a disastrous defeat on Hoth. No doubt they were scrambling throughout the galaxy, focusing all of their energies on trying to save their hides. How had they managed anything like this?

Suddenly, the holoads that specked the street and lit the vaporous smog with their haze all switched to a routine security bulletin. This was a frequent occurrence under imperial regime and Tara kept walking. After all, with her level of clearance it was unlikely that any of this would be anything more than old news.

Then the name Calrissian reached her ears and she stopped dead in her tracks.

Back, before her so-called employment by the Moff, Tara had worked closely with the smuggler and made a good many deals and an even better profit with the cocky entrepreneur. She eyed the dark-skinned, well-groomed face from under her hood. Lando Calrissian was wanted for fraud and treason. Secretly, Tara's heart went out to the charming rogue. She held a clenched fist to her chest. There simply weren't enough scoundrels in the galaxy anymore.

The face of Lando Calrissian was soon replaced by that of Leia Organa. Tara knew from the frequency of these messages that Mon Mothma would come next followed by Admiral Ackbar. She kept on walking, confident but silent.

By the time she reached her ship, a compact corvette, the boarding ramp was already lowered and the sub-light engines were primed. Her astromech rolled dutifully at her heels.

"Good work, Spinner."

[][][]

As soon as _The Paratta _was in hyperspace, Tara retired to her quarters to change and think. Her mind went back to the rebel treasure. Tara hoped that this treasure was some sort of artillery. Maybe the Moff would be pleased and up her fuel quotas. She hated waiting around in depots until the credits were finally wired to her. And, especially now, if Calrissian truly had joined the Alliance, they had certainly gained a wealthy benefactor to pay for it all. After all, there was no in-between when it came to Imperial loyalty. She laughed silently to herself at this irony as she pulled on her black jumpsuit. She turned to the mirror to braid her hair and the laugh faded as she caught the stark white of the cogwheel insignia on her lapel. She turned away, clipping her cloak so that it draped over the circle.

"Alright, Spinner, what've you got?" Tara joined her crew in the cockpit. She adored her multifarious crew of astromechs. Never would she let an Imperial have any measure of control on her ship. _The Paratta _was free, even if Tara wasn't.

The droid warbled and her data pad lit up. Tara scanned the lists. After sorting out passenger vessels, large ships, and fighters, she found one good match. It was a Rodian light freighter she'd dealt with before.

Sure enough, _The Paratta _dropped out of hyperspace moments after _The Bonegnawer_. Tara swiveled her chair around to face the forward viewport. _Keel-ee calleya ku kah (You disappoint me)_, she muttered under her breath.

"Spinner, lock into the ship's weapons array. We may need the turrets. Buzz, increase shields and get ready to rock." Tara pushed _The Paratta_ forward as she drew closer to _The Bonegnawer_. "Ginger," Tara called to the red-domed R2 waiting by the nav computer, "Open communication."

"Paratta to Bonegnawer: _Koona t'chuta_ (_What are you doing here?)"_

"_Coona tee-tocky malia (What took you so long?),_ Tara?" a laughing Rodian voice greeted her in Huttese, "I can't believe you let me leave Coruscant.

"I stopped for a drink. Now, Sleeno, are you going to take her down or will I have to shoot her down?"

"_Cha skrunee do pat (don't count on it),"_ the pilot answered before the shipped dipped straight downward and portside. Tara took pursuit.

"Lock and load Spinner!" the droid's reply echoed over the intercom and the sheet of black space between the Corvette and the freighter filled with fire. Tara brought her ship in line with the Rodian craft. The droid's accuracy could not be beat by living flesh and soon brought down _The Bonegnawer_'s shields.

"_Bona nai kachu (It's too late),_ surrender and prepare for boarding."

"Next time, Tara, I'll scratch that black paint of yours," the comm channel closed and _The Bonegnawer_ dropped away into Coronet.

After landing, both pilots descended their ramps and shook hands in the middle. Now, Tara openly displayed her Imperial crest.

"_Chupa (Hey),_ Sleeno, I've seen better ships floating in junk space." She poked fun at the Rodian's ship. Tara watched her reflection waver in Sleeno's obsidian eyes as he took in her outfit.

"_Kava doompa D'emperlolo stoopa. ( You're a low-down Imperial fool_.) It's a shame."

"I'm not an Imp." She snarled, "And the last fool who called me that got his antennae shoved down his throat."

"Then what's with the suit?

"Formalities." She pulled out her blaster and aimed it to his head. "Now, smuggler, getting down to business…_kee hasa do punyoo kapa tonka (drop the weapon and put your hands_ _up)!"_ Sleeno dropped his own blaster and raised his hands. "Word has it you're carrying something big for the rebels."

"Tara, you know I don't ship and tell." He smiled wickedly.

"Fine," She spun the Duro about and nudged him forward with the muzzle of her gun. "Let's go find out then."

Tara was disappointed by what she found on Sleeno's ship. Even after searching his homemade smuggling compartments she hadn't found much. There were mostly supplies: spare circuitry, first aid, and some tools. Sleeno wasn't even carrying bacta. Tara did find crates of astromech parts though, so she took them. She left everything else, including three-dozen ration tins. She always left the food. Sleeno was half right. Tara was Imperial scum, but she wasn't low-down.

Krife, Tara thought to herself, maybe this had been the wrong ship. Either way, she had found nothing and it was too late to try again. She'd missed her chance. She immediately cursed her naiveté and stormed up the ramp into the _Paratta_.

[][][]

"What's happened?" Maris Aedann asked the Rodian pilot as he entered the cockpit.

"We've been hit."

"Is everything alright?" Sitting in the co-pilot's chair, he scanned the controls.

"Met up with an old friend," The pilot made a sort of hiccupping noise that seemed to be an equivalent of chuckling through gritted teeth.

Another shock hit the cabin.

"Imperial?" asked Maris, fearing the worst.

"Unfortunately, yes."

The ship took another hit and Maris looked down at the array. "Shields are down." He told Sleeno.

The comm channel opened and a female voice echoed through the cockpit, "_Bona nai kachu. _Surrender and prepare for boarding."

"Next time, Tara," Sleeno responded, his tone half way between a joke and a threat. "I'll scratch that black paint of yours." He closed communication and turned to Maris.

"I'm sorry, Jedi, but I don't think that I'll be getting you to the rendezvous." Maris nodded to the bulbous green head and went to gather his cloak.

[][][]

"You gonna be alright?" Sleeno looked sadly up at Maris once _The Bonegnawer _had landed. His stony eyes shone with what appeared to be sadness.

"I'll be fine," Maris pulled up his hood and stepped into the shadows. "Thank you."

"What is it you Jedi say?" Sleeno straightened his shoulders as the boarding ramp descended, "May the Force be with you." And then he was gone.

Maris used to Force to leap under the ramp. He crouched as Sleeno walked out into the space between the two ships. He watched as a woman descended from the ramp of the corvette. Her appearance shocked him. From the terseness of her voice, Maris had assumed she would walk out of the ship wearing Imperial grays, with grizzled hair pried from a wrinkled face.

This woman, however, was young, possibly even younger than the Jedi. She strode out to where Sleeno stood with a confident swing of her hips, her black cloak billowing out behind her. An aura radiated off of her, clearly warning she was not to be taken lightly. Apparently, this was not something one needed the Force to understand for Maris saw how the hangar attendants gave a slight salute and scurried away with the nod of her head.

Maris quickly rolled from under the _Bonegnawer _to rest behind a fuel rig. He looked back where the two were talking. He could not make out what they were saying, so he allowed his attention to drift back to the woman. She was actually quite lovely, Maris remarked. Her dark hair was plaited into an elaborate braid that hung down her back. The curves of her stoic face were somehow delicate as well as strong. She scowled at Sleeno, and Maris could tell it was an expression she wore far too often.

Then, she raised a blaster to Sleeno's head.

The situation had escalated and, instinctively, Maris covered the hilt of his lightsaber with a hand. He needed to move.

Luckily, the woman pushed Sleeno towards his ship. The Duro caught Maris's eye and the Jedi gave him a thankful nod.

Once they had ascended the boarding ramp and Maris was sure he was alone, he made a mad dash for the only place that where he sensed no life forms: _The Paratta._

Maris immediately regretted his decision. He had not taken one step into the ship before he had to once again crouch and hide. A red-domed astromech toddled across the main corridor. Two more emerged from a side compartment. Now he understood why he felt no living beings aboard the ship: the whole thing was piloted by droids!

Maris flicked his finger and they were all deactivated and pushed back into their compartments.

Finally able to stand straight, Maris looked around the ship and quietly whistled. He was impressed. _The Paratta_ had definitely benefitted from Imperial credits. Every surface was polished and equipped with the hottest technology. Maris wished he had more time to investigate, but the sound of footsteps pushed him along.

He ran until he found an open door and ducked inside.

[][][]

Tara carried her new astromech parts onto the ship and tried to figure out what she was going to do next. She had not spoken to the Moff in quite a while and he was expecting to hear from her soon with a good reason for why it was she was wasting his credits and fuel.

She hated this. She hated being trapped and reliant on anyone other than herself. But she couldn't just skip town or she would join the likes of Calrissian and Solo. And there was no place for a pirate in the Rebellion. Tara sighed and reached to thumb the door pad. Before her hand could reach the sensor, however, a crash sounded from the other side of the durasteel.

Tara dropped her crate and pulled her blaster from its holster. She did not take kindly to stowaways. Opening the door, Tara walked forward, placing her feet so as to keep her boot heels from clicking. Another crash clambered through the small supply bay followed by a curse. Tara spun in the direction of the noise.

Tara caught the sound of footfalls from behind her and turned to face the intruder. He stood tall and square before her, resilient.

"Who are you?" She demanded of the man.

"My name is Maris Aedann," he told her calmly, squaring his broad shoulders.

Her eye caught the hilt attached to his belt.

"Well, Maris Aedann," She approached him, finger staid on the trigger. "Surrender your weapon."

Surprisingly, he did.

Tara looked him over warily. She had always thought she would know a Jedi by his telltale robes. But underneath a nerf leather flight jacket this Aedann character wore only a common tunic, black pants, and knee high boots. Some sorcerer. Her eyes settled back on his face. It had obviously been sometime since he shaved and the slight stubble made him appear far more ruggedly handsome than a Jedi was ever supposed to be. She wondered from where such a thought had surfaced, she pushed it fiercely away.

Tara looked into his startlingly blue eyes, "You are hereby under arrest by the Galactic Empire for high treason, sedition, and fugitation."


	2. Chapter 2

"Crazy isn't it, Spinner?" Tara turned the chrome cylinder of Maris's saber over in her hands. "This may be just what we've needed. Finally, there's a chance for freedom." Tara leaned back in her chair and smiled. It had been so long since she had done so.

When she had heard of a rebel treasure, Tara had no idea just how precious their gem actually was. She still had trouble believing it. There was a Jedi locked in her storage bay. All it would take was one call to the Moff, one flight to Coruscant and she was free.

"Spinner, let's share the good news. Shall we?"

The astromech warbled and opened communication.

"Ahh, Captain Nyine, Miss Tara. It's so nice to hear from you. It's been nearly a month since I've received a status report from you."

"I've been busy."

"How busy?" Tara could almost hear his pants slide against the upholstery of the chair as he leaned closer to the comm station.

"I got a hint from a drunken smuggler in an undercity cantina."

"Your ways have always been questionable, yet unrealistically efficient." The Moff laughed a throaty laugh.

"Yes, well as it turns out, he had been delivered a shipment of 'rebel treasure'," Tara knew her superior couldn't see her make quotation marks in the air but she did it anyway, "that was headed for Corellia."

"And you intercepted this treasure?"

"Yes, and he is locked in my supply bay right now."

"_He?"_

"Yessir, I have got you a Jedi."

"You can't be serious,"

"Oh, but I am. I will reach Coruscant by morning."

"I will have a private hangar ready for you to dock. Oh, and Tara, Godspeed," The Moff's voice lowered, "because we have a charter to discuss."

[][][]

Maris was in deep Bantha fodder. He sat on the floor and tried to meditate, tried to calm the panic rising within him. His plan had been...what plan? He shook his head and rose to his feet. He had been foolish enough to board _The Paratta_.

Well, he argued with himself, what other option did he have? He could have made a run for it and faced a whole planet of Imperial Forces. Either way, he was doomed. Perhaps he could have disarmed his captor and taken over the ship? No, that was ridiculous. It took more than one person to pilot a corvette. The only way the Imperial had managed was by enlisting her crew of droids that were obviously loyal only to her.

He plopped down on a box of medical supplies and rubbed his eyes. He suddenly felt the exhaustion of the past few days set in. He couldn't remember the last time he had whole night's sleep or a decent meal.

The door to the supply bay slid open.

"Hey there, Jedi," The pilot strolled up to him. She had changed out of her menacing blacks and now wore a much less threatening outfit of an olive tunic and pants. She handed him a bowl.

He regarded it suspiciously, but felt no threat, so he took it. Maris watched her carefully as she pulled up another crate and sat opposite him. The smell of the soup was absolutely divine.

"Need me alive?" He asked, raising his brows at her.

"No," she frowned at him, "I thought you might be hungry."

Her voice was sincere. And she was right; until he had smelled the broth, Maris had been able to push aside the hunger gnawing at his bones. She looked him over. He felt oddly like a child. For a moment longer he just looked at her. Her eyes were brown and their depth amazed him.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she reached into her pocket, pulled forth a spoon and offered it to him.

"Thanks," he took it, "though, to be honest, I probably would have eaten it with my hands." First rule of Jedi training: when there is food, eat. His old master's voice echoed in his mind. It had been so long since he had heard that voice.

She laughed as he lifted one spoonful into his mouth. The broth was warm as it slid down his throat. The nerf meat was so tender, that he could break it apart with his tongue. He took another bite, and another. In moments the bowl was empty. The soup settled in his belly and Maris could not remember a better meal.

"Some appetite,"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, his monk's attitude forgotten, "it's just-"

"Don't," she told him, smiling slightly. "It's good to know that the Jedi don't just live off of moon dust and magic."

Now it was Maris's turn to laugh, "Moon dust?"

"Well, you don't exactly see many Jedi on the street. Some people don't understand." She turned her hands over one another in her lap. "Some are afraid."

Maris looked into her eyes, "Are you afraid?"

"No," she said and Maris knew it was true.

After a moment of silence she added, "I don't believe the things that the holonet says. I don't think the Jedi betrayed us." Maris watched as his captor looked down at her hands. There was more and more about this woman that intrigued him.

"If you don't mind me asking," she continued, "how did you…?"

"Survive?"

She nodded.

Maris hesitated. He wasn't sure if disclosing the secrets of his past to her was such a good idea. But, he felt that the woman before him knew a thing or two about secrets and how to keep them that he decided to tell her.

"I was a very young Padawan, or an apprentice. That was in the midst of the Clone Wars." Maris intently studied his own scarred palm as he opened and slowly closed a fist.

"I was fourteen when Order Sixty-Six was executed. The higher Jedi, those on the council especially, were generals during the Clone Wars and their own troops turned on them. Before we got word of Order Sixty-six and before Master Sky-er Vader could march on the Temple, I felt something was wrong." Maris suddenly found it hard to go on. He had never before told his story. The wounds he had fought so long to heal were ripped anew.

"I ran to my master. Like a fool, I thought she would somehow be able to stop Vader and his battalion, but, like I said," Maris took in a shaky breath, "it was foolish."

"Master Aryys, she knew what was coming. She knew it was her duty to stay and protect the younglings and the eons of knowledge and tradition held at the temple," He could still see the tears in her eyes, those green eyes that were always so lively.

"She told me to run. She told me to run as fast as I could, to get rid of my robes and hide in the undercity. She told me to remember what I had learned and to stay alive, to keep the Jedi alive. So I did what any good student would do," He gave Tara a bittersweet smile.

"You left and you survived," her voice was not laced with condescension or pity, but full of comprehension and understanding. He watched her tilt her head to the side.

"Did you ever see her again?"

"I did go back to the temple. To try and find what I could, but there was nothing." He did not meet her deep, interested gaze.

She took the empty bowl from him then, his fingers were limp and easily released it. She stood and he watched her. He felt the pressure of her hand squeeze his shoulder then gently slide away as she walked towards to door. He didn't understand.

"Wait," he called to her, "What's your name?"

"Tara,"

"Tara, why bother with all of this?"

"Well," she sighed and Maris could feel her own sadness seep through the Force. "We all lost something to the Empire." And then she was gone.

[][][]

Tara did not know what to make of the Jedi. She sat back in her chair as she watched the security holo of her prisoner. He was pacing. Rather anxiously, she noticed, like an animal in a cage that was much too small.

Tara sighed and bit at the back of her thumb. She watched as Maris wore his boot heels down to nothing. He was the key to unlock her chains. No longer would she be Tara Nyine, Imperial Privateer. By tomorrow evening she could be Tara Nyine, a free woman.

She looked back at the holo.

It had been so long since she had seen a Jedi. Tara was beginning to think they were an extinct race. After the purge, she couldn't believe there were any left.

Maris had stopped pacing. He was leaned against a wall, forehead pressed against the durasteel, fists clenched above his head.

Jedi were a distant memory, but Tara remembered them. She remembered all of the holonet coverage during the Clone Wars. The Republic Generals always stood with medals gleaming on their puffed chests. The Jedi didn't have medals. They stood with their chins up, always dressed in their monk's robes. Tara had always found them to be, well, sort of mystic. Looking down at Maris and hearing his story, she could tell that the magical powers he possessed had cost him dearly. Tara and her ship had been shanghaied into Imperial service nine years ago. Maris had been hunted most of his life. The purge had happened when she was just a little girl, nearly two decades ago. Had he been alone, wandering the galaxy all this time?

She did find this Jedi to be rather peculiar, though. Save for his ratty and hastily patched robe, he wore none of the traditional Jedi garb. Fascinated by him, she continued to observe him over the holo. She knew what would become of him. That Vader and the Emperor would have their ways with him before he was killed and this saddened her.

Maris's appearance on her ship lit within her a sort of hope. Freedom was not far from her. But, she thought dejectedly, it could never come to her without costing the Jedi his.

She only wished that this hope would last after the Jedi was gone.

Spinner wooed beside her chair. She patted to droid's head.

[][][]

Maris sighed heavily, watching his breath cloud the durasteel. He turned around and looked into the darkness. He allowed his back to slide down the wall until he sat on the floor. Resting his elbows on his drawn-up knees, Maris let his head roll back and rest against the surface behind him.

He had told Tara his story. It was a secret he had kept buried for so long. Twenty-one years, he counted. Had it really been so long? It had, yet he could still hear Master Aryys's voice in his head as if she were standing there before him, green head tails quivering almost unnoticeably as she spoke.

"Remember what your masters have taught you," she had told him. "Take what you have learned and protect it."

Maris could feel the tears brimming in his eyes as he seemed to fall back into the past. He could once again sense the tremors in the Force as hundreds of Jedi flickered out. Friends. Brothers-in-arms.

"Keep the Jedi alive." The Twi'lek had placed her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him. He had already outgrown her in height.

As Maris thought of his old mentor he could not suppress the regret of having failed her. He had followed her instructions. Yes, he had run and kept himself alive. Twenty-one years he'd been running, but he had only kept half of his promise.

Maris felt as if he were losing his connection to the Force. The bond he had once felt to the Jedi Order and the universe around him seemed to be fraying. Some time after the Battle of Yavin, word had finally reached him of a Jedi within the ranks of Rogue Squadron. A rookie pilot was apparently gifted in the ways of the Force. This pilot was his link to what he had lost so many years ago. He was the hero who reached the core of the Death Star and was a Commander now, but after the Rebel defeat on Hoth, tracking him down had proven to be quite problematic. Secrecy was crucial to the survival of the Alliance.

But Maris had missed the rendezvous. There was little doubt that he would be kept alive at the hands of Vader and the Emperor.

Maris finally settled enough to sit cross-legged on the floor and to contemplate. He had to find a way out of this.

[][][]

Sirens ripped through the ship and rousted Tara from her sleep. She cursed. It had been months since she'd slept like that.

"SPINNER!" She called for her crew, leaping out of bed and throwing on her boots. "What is going on?" Tara ran to the cockpit. The ship was no longer hurtling through hyperspace and she reached the controls just in time to see the stars condense back into a dusting over the sheet of black space.

"No!" She screamed looking through the viewport. Ahead of _The Paratta _was a Rebel task force of four or five ships.

"Not now," she gritted her teeth. She had been so close.

Ginger beeped. They were being hailed.

"Go ahead, Ginger. Let them through." The holo channel opened.

"Captain Nyine," a light, feminine voice addressed Tara sternly. The Rebel officer was pale with frenetic, red curls escaping her cap, it was a face Tara recognized from the list of those wanted for treason, but also from her own past while she had undergone indoctrination at the Imperial Academy.

"Commander Sol," Tara growled. Corinna Sol had been a gifted student in the Imperial Academy. Tara knew she was a military genius and well on her way to a high ranking. Tara couldn't understand why a woman with such potential had traded loyalties.

"I'm afraid there's no time for niceties, Nyine. I know you intercepted _The Bonegnawer_ yesterday

"Perhaps, you should have enlisted a better pilot." Tara scowled, but the other woman's face showed no sign of intimidation.

"We already have our arsenals primed and our fighters standing by. We can do this one of two ways. You can surrender your prisoner or we can incapacitate your precious vessel."

Tara looked into Sol's cold blue eyes and knew she wasn't bluffing. Tara looked out of the viewport once again then bit her lip. There was no way _The Paratta _could even defend herself against the Rebel's heavy guns or outmaneuver the lithe X-wings. In moments, Tara's pride would be a sitting duck, abandoned in space.

"It seems," Tara turned back to the holoprojector, "that I have no other choice but to allow you to come aboard." She switched the channel closed.

"Spinner, prepare for boarding."

On her way to the docking bay, Tara stopped and changed back into her Imperial blacks grabbed her blaster along with a few extra clips incase Sol decided things were going to get frisky. She was buckling her holster as she stepped into the bay.

"Tara," a voice called her name. She spun to find the Jedi standing before her.

"Maris," she had expected the Jedi to eventually make a break for it. It was the fact that he had taken so long to do so that had her off guard.

"I'm sorry Tara. You have a kind heart, but I can't let you take me to Coruscant." He pulled his lightsaber from his belt.


	3. Chapter 3

Jyrenne Base, Onderon

"Commander Sol." Maris ran to catch up with her. She spun around; surprised that he had called her name.

"Oh, Master Aedann." She continued her powerful strides, "How may I be of service?"

Maris felt awkward and slightly intimidated by her straight-backed countenance.

"I was hoping to ask you a few questions. Do you have a moment?"

"Indeed, I've been meaning to ask a few of you as well." Corinna looked up at him, "I am on my way to dinner now. Would you join me?" She stopped outside of a door to a small make-shift dining hall.

"Of course," he followed her to a table.

"Sit here," she told him, "I will be right back."

When she returned, she carried with her two bowls of what appeared to be some kind of porridge.

"So, Master Aedann," Commander Sol began.

"Please, call me Maris." Maris dipped his spoon into the gruel. He regretted taking a bite however, as a bitter taste filled his mouth.

"Rather informal for a Jedi Knight. Don't you believe?" Corinna ate her meal without a change of expression. Maris silently commended her military discipline.

"Do you know many Jedi?"

"I did know a few while I was still a Lieutenant in the Imperial Navy; but only…briefly," She did not meet his eyes as she said this and Maris felt twangs of regret and the darkness of death and torture seep through the Force.

"Oh," he said, making a face as he forced down another spoonful of porridge.

"I apologize for the food," she seemed quick to change the subject, "but it could be worse. Fortunately, Jyrenne Base is well stocked and close to Iziz which is occupied by a populace in agreement with the Alliance. Other garrisons are not half as lucky. I don't think I need to tell you the horrors of a ration-bar diet." Sol succeeded with half of a chuckle.

"War is difficult," Maris empathized, "especially for the Rebellion."

Sol sighed. "The Empire is pushing at our borders. Imperial espionage and mercenary forces have us running for the hills. We are strewn throughout the galaxy, and forced to make do with what we can salvage." She looked over her shoulder with softened eyes at the pilots in orange flight suits and the mechanics with grease-stained coveralls. "There are few places left for us to hide and I fear that soon what we have will not be enough. I am just trying to keep the Alliance alive."

_Keep the Jedi alive. _He esteemed her potent commitment to her cause. Indeed, she was one of the lucky ones who would eat tonight, yet she felt the ache of her comrades parsecs away.

Maris gently pushed aside his bowl. "I apologize for not being better read, but how fares the Alliance? I knew that there was quite a positive streak going, but it's hard to keep up when you're living on the run."

"Victories for the Alliance are growing farther apart," explained the Commander. "Stormtroopers seem to be an interminable resource while Rebel recruits are dwindling. Not long ago, I received word that General Solo has been apprehended by the infamous Boba Fett." Maris could feel the fire in her words. "Commander Skywalker had not been back for two seconds from whatever soul searching he had done before he rushed off with Senator Organa to rescue the General. He took with him the fastest ship in the fleet. I also hear that Mon Mothma is working with the Bothans, but I-"

"Commander Skywalker?" He cut her off. Skywalker? Anakin Skywalker?

"Yes, surely, as a Jedi, you have met with him?" Corinna raised her fine, red eyebrows.

"No," Maris clarified, "He is the reason I sought the Alliance."

Corinna's blue eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak, but before any word could leave her lips, a young officer approached their table.

"Yes, Corporal?"

"Commander, I have an update of Nyine and _The Paratta_."

"Very well." She stood and Maris followed her out of the cafeteria.

"There were no tracking beacons located anywhere within or on the hull of the ship." The Corporal handed her a data pad.

"That is very peculiar." Corinna strolled through the readouts. "Most Imperial vessels are monitored. Then again, perhaps her status brings with it a few loyalties." She handed the data pad back all of this without missing a step as she strode down the corridor.

"Status?" Maris inquired.

"Yes, Tara Nyine is not just any woman. She's as ruthless as any accomplished bounty hunter and as skilled and quick-witted as the best smugglers. And all of this comes with Imperial fiat." Corinna flashed Maris a lop-sided rebel grin

"Which brings me to my request," She turned a corner and keyed in a security code. Through the doorway, the Rebel officers and the Jedi were on one side of a plasteel screen separating them from Tara who was sitting on a bench. Maris looked at Tara for a long while. Corinna painted her as such a ruthless contender, but as he watched her hold her head in her cuffed hands, he could not see it. Through the Force he felt no hostility, but like a trapped creature, great fear.

"Master Aedann, it is no secret that the Jedi do possess certain gifts of...persuasion,"

"You want me to interrogate her," he gained of her meaning.

Corinna nodded.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Commander," Maris stood straighter, using his height to convey his severity. "But interrogation is not the approach the Jedi prefer to take."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, "Perhaps the great masters before you had not prophesied the current state of the galaxy."

Maris was resolute. There may be much of the old Jedi that was lost to him, but the way of the Force still echoed within him. Corinna may have the best of intentions, but there was a fine line between virtuous and malevolent. If Maris were to use his abilities to interrogate Tara, he would be crossing that line.

"No," he furrowed his brows but felt the inner serenity of the Force wash over him.

Corinna exhaled sharply through parted lips. Then she snapped back into her role as commanding officer.

"Very well, Master Jedi, I accept your premise and commend your tenacity." She bowed her head slightly to him. "If you will excuse me, I have work that needs attending."

Maris took this as his cue to leave, but he would not leave it at that. Just before stepping back into the hall he turned.

"What will become of her?" he asked, remembering the gentleness with which Tara had treated him

"This is a critical time for the rebellion." Corinna stopped pattering her fingers on a data pad and looked up at him. "Nyine is too great of an adversary to be left at large. Alliance code dictates that she should not face punishment without a fair trial; so, until she is charged with her crimes, she will be held here for questioning." By her tone, Maris could tell Commander Sol did not expect Tara to be acquitted.

[][][]

Maris peered around the corner. There was no one in the hallway save for the sentry to the prison unit. Casually, he approached the guard.

"Master Jedi," he said.

"I would like an audience with Captain Nyine."

"I'm sorry, sir, no one is allowed access to the prisoner, Commander Sol's orders."

"Well then," Maris took hold of the man's mind with the Force, "Commander Sol doesn't need to know.

"No, Commander Sol doesn't need to know." The patrol stepped aside and Maris strolled past him. Once again, Maris saw Tara through the transparasteel screen. There was a cot illuminated by a single light and she was laying on her back, mindlessly picking at a welded seam, the ever-present scowl still distorting her face. When the door to her cell whooshed Tara immediately got to her feet.

"What in stars name?"

"Tara?" he called her name. She squinted into the darkness.

"What are you doing here?" She crossed her arms, "It's a little late for visitors isn't it?" He laughed lightly.

"Technically, I shouldn't be here." Maris stepped out of the shadows.

"You _definitely _shouldn't be here. If Corinna found out you were here-"

"I'm not worried about the Commander right now." Maris grinned and handed her a canteen of water. "Besides, it's the least I can do."

"Do? You don't owe me anything. I would have surrendered you for execution." She took the bottle anyway and plopped down on the cot.

"I know it isn't anything personal." He sat beside her, "Just what you have to do," Her eyes met his for just a brief moment before Tara turned her head away from him. For a long time she didn't speak. Maris regarded her curiously. The corner of her bottom lip was purple, bruised and swollen.

Tara was a fighter. Her life was one long battle. Win or lose, one doesn't come out the same person. Maris watched her and wondered how something so beautiful could become so callous. But she was. Beautiful. The feminine curves of her face were just hidden behind the strength of a gundark that guarded the blast doors to her heart.

She finally turned her head towards him. "I could really go for a sanisteam."

"Alright," he agreed.

"What?" her eyes smiled in disbelief as he stood and headed out the door. "You're serious?"

"Of course," Maris flashed her a crooked grin, "You know that this door is unlocked. And you know that I am unarmed. You're too smart not to know that, when it means reuniting with your ship, there was nothing stopping you." He turned to face her. "If you wanted to escape you would have done so already."

"The Force tells you all this?" She squinted at him.

"It didn't need to,"

"Then, you trust me?" She asked as if he had done the impossible.

Maris nodded and led the way back into the corridor. Immediately, Tara asked where the hangar was as she hooked her thumbs in her belt loops, glancing left and right.

"I've got a perfectly functioning 'fresher on the Paratta." She explained, "And I don't think Corinna would like to share her bath salts."

"You're joking." It was not a question. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

She wasn't joking.

"It's not here," he told her.

"Where is it?"

She began to spin away from him. He took hold of her, his hand clamped over her forearm. Her eyes narrowed and met his, fierce and unyielding.

"Listen, Jedi, you don't know what that ship is to me." Her glare tempered. Now, she looked somewhere over his right shoulder.

"It's all I have left!" She was near shouting now, "The Empire has everything else."

Tara's choice of words stunned Maris and his grasp on her relaxed. He understood why he had yet to feel any threat from the pilot. She was an Imperial privateer, but it seemed not by choice. As he began to wonder why, he released Tara. She did not flee.

"Please, Maris." Her voice was sincere and the Force held witness. "I just need to see my ship."

"The Paratta is being held in a secure hangar. Follow me. I'm not letting you out of my sight, remember?"

[][][]

Tara sprang up _The Paratta_'s boarding ramp and Maris lengthened his stride to keep pace. He didn't need to go far, however, as just within the ship Tara was kneeled before one of her astromech pets. The Jedi watched as Tara spoke to the droid in hushed, tender tones, to which it replied with barely audible whirrs and beeps.

She stood. The R2 unit swiveled its head and caught the man in its sight. It erupted into a symphony of high pitched wails and alarms.

"It's okay, Spinner," Tara told the droid. "He's with me."

Spinner rolled to sit between Tara and the Jedi.

"He's been on standby, protecting the ship."

"He's very um…intuitive for a droid." Maris remarked, patting the droid's dome.

"I don't have their memories erased. In my line of work, details are everything. I can't afford to forget." A hunk of metal collided with the back of Maris's legs. He spun around to see another R2. This one was painted entirely red.

"And it gives them character." She started further into the ship.

"Why droids?" asked Maris.

"Because droids don't lie," He couldn't help but notice the bite in her voice and wonder from where her resentment originated. She stopped and thumbed the door pad.

Maris followed Tara into her quarters.

"Don't think you'll need to come in with me, Jedi." Tara stood with an arm on each side of the door frame.

Maris realized that she meant the refresher and instantly stepped back. Tara winked at him before closing the door, leaving Maris to blush unseen.

Turning, he took in Tara's quarters.

Being captain of a ship with no crew obviously had its perks. The room was spacious and furnished with items from across the galaxy. There was a chest made of exotic wood with a purplish hue. Maris traced the winding grain with his fingertips, surprised by the soft and weathered texture.

Continuing to browse, Maris found that the pieces of Tara's collection originated from all edges of the galaxy. Including a set of four figurines carved from some sort of blue stone and a suit of Mandalorian armor. In a world of durasteel and permacrete, such finds as these were rare and precious. The treasures of a pirate.

He continued to circle the spacious living space to a desk. He picked up a granite sphere and noticed, as he tossed it around in his palms, that it was covered in tiny grooves. Upon further inspection, he discovered that the grooves he felt were actually a map of the galaxy etched into its surface. Running his fingers across the Hydian way, he stepped closer to the desk to observe a holo Tara had forgotten to deactivate.

It was an atlas. It was covered with jump coordinates and flight paths. Scanning the holo, Maris could not find a single planetary body he recognized. Was she planning something? Hoping to explore the galaxy? Interest piqued, he continued to snoop.

On a bureau, Maris spotted a particularly interesting bauble. Small enough to fit in the palm of his hands the oval orb was gilt with white pearl, the kind that Maris knew could be used rather than crystals in lightsabers. His fingers finding a ledge at the end of a golden seal, Maris gently opened it to find it was actually a music box. The song it played was mystic and almost melancholy. _We all lost something to the Empire._

"I was given that by a Mon Cal woman," Tara's voice said from behind him. "It's an old folk song," she hummed the tune.

"It sounds so sad." Maris turned the pearl over in his hand.

"It's about being lost at sea."

He put the music box down and looked at Tara. Her long, dark hair, usually braided down her back, was left to fall freely. He preferred it this way.

"You collect a lot of souvenirs."

"My job causes me to travel," she laughed a little, picking up one of the tiny blue sculptures. He wondered what world they were from.

"I noticed your star maps," he said, hoping she didn't find him to be too prying.

"Yeah," she sighed wistfully, "I have this dream," she started.

"Go on," he smiled encouragingly.

"I have this dream of seeing the sunsets of as many worlds as I can." She paused, "Have you ever seen the sunset on Tatooine?"

Maris's image of this pirate softened when he heard her say this. He found himself smiling, wanting to be a part of her adventures, wanting to drop the weight of carrying on the Jedi Order and the whole bloody war.

"How did you become a Privateer?" He finally asked the question that had been on his mind for so long.

[][][]

"How did you become a Privateer," The question caught Tara unawares. She forced her eyes away from his lively blue ones. "I know it wasn't by choice."

Damn that Jedi.

"No, it wasn't,"

He raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to continue. She sighed in defeat. The least she owed Maris was the truth.

"My father," she began, "was a shipbuilder. One of the best. He worked with the Mon Calamari." She sat on the edge of the bed. Maris followed her.

"A ship, he used to say, was like a piece of art." Tara smiled at the recollection of her greying father. His smile had been so bright. "A ship must be controlled like a paintbrush. He designed great ships, beautiful ships.

"Then," her smiled faded, "The Empire invaded Dac. They destroyed the shipyards." Tara was young, but she had been old enough to feel the pain of such a loss. _The Keelkana. The Nadorda. The Syrena. _Such masterpieces, burnt by the same Moff who now held her leash.

"And your father?" Maris asked with tenderness in his voice.

"He told the Moff that he would rather scuttle his whole fleet than let it fall into the hands of the Empire. He was arrested that night, and I…I never saw him again." She felt the tears rising in her eyes but fought them down.

"My mother died a year later," she told Maris. "Dad had taught me to fly, so I did. Must've been the Mon Cal in me, because I wanted to see the galaxy. All of space just waiting like and endless ocean."

"You wanted to get lost at sea," said Maris. Tara shook her head in agreement.

"At first it was small stuff like stealing security transports out of teenage angst. But as I got older, I learned that there was money to be made smuggling." She chuckled, if just to keep from crying. "I worked for whoever would hire me. Then, when things got hot and the Rebellion really gained a foothold, I got work with a crew dragging bacta. Eventually, I bought myself a ship. Nothing like my father's, but a nice Corellian Engineering model." Tara stomped her feet affectionately on _The Paratta's _floor. "I started making my own smuggling runs. I grew some guts and even took on Imperial supply freighters, stealing their cargo. Before long I'd gained a reputation. I wasn't just a smuggler, I'd become a pirate." Tara smiled devilishly at Maris. "I worked with some scoundrels, became real comfortable in the undercities, and got in trouble with the Moff."

Tara felt the blood rush from her face as she remembered that day. She had been on a good streak. No trouble for weeks. The money had been pouring in and she'd painted her hull black just for style. Then, when she had come up on Dantooine to deliver, a blockade had been there to meet her. As it had played out, with her success, the price on her head had tripled. And one couldn't put a bounty out like that and not expect hunters. Sure enough, Fett had found her. He found her and dragged her to the Moff that would become her master.

"I was given an ultimatum," Tara sighed, "die for treason or accept an Imperial charter and trade in my pirating and freedom for amnesty and my ship." Glancing up at Maris, Tara saw that his face was straight in concentration. His jaw was strong and speckled with neatly trimmed stubble. Again, she found herself caught off-guard by his ruggedly handsome appearance.

"It explains so much," Maris spoke more to himself than to Tara. His eyes met hers. Had they always been that blue?

"I still do basically the same job, but the uniform's a lot less colorful," Tara tried to break the tension that only she seemed to feel. She envied the Jedi for his stoic calm.

"Thank you for telling me. And, Tara," the pirate found it hard to absorb the soft tambour of his voice, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For what lies ahead of you."

Tara's throat closed at the thought of her trial. She was a prisoner of war, but she knew what awaited her at the Alliance courts. Such a shame, she thought to herself, there was still so much in the galaxy she hadn't seen. She bit her lip in sad, hopeless frustration, struggling even harder to reign in the tears. It hurt from the bruise.

"Tara?" Maris asked gently, "Are you alright?"

"Fine, Jedi. Just fine," But she could tell that Maris knew it was a lie. Krife, those eyes.

He reached his hand out towards her. "May I?"

Tara nodded, not knowing what she was agreeing to. His large hand cupped her face between chin and cheek. She felt his callous thumb gently graze the skin there and trace its way to her lip. Careful of the sore flesh, he applied delicate pressure. When he released, she brought her own fingers to her lip and pressed gently. There was no pain. She pressed even harder. Maris had healed her.

[][][]

Maris had healed Tara, but he did not remove his hand. No, instead, he felt the delicate skin of her lips and the warm air of her breaths. Now he was just holding her. Her head secure in his grasp. With great trepidation, he followed the curves of her face, pushed on by wonder and guided by the soft line of her cheek bone to the corner of her eyes. Tara's eyes fluttered shut and Maris caught a tear before it could fall.

He could feel the weight of her head as it settled into his palm and her delicate hand wrapped around his. She opened her eyes and Maris saw the woman behind the dark irises. She was not a pirate, but a woman. And no longer was he a Jedi, but a man.

She inched closer to him, still holding his hand, and pressed her lips lightly against his. Kissing had previously been unknown to the Jedi, and he was amazed by the sensation. When Tara moved away from him, he looked at her. The scowl was gone and she really was beautiful.

With the hand that held her face, Maris took her hand and pulled her to him. The other wound its way around her back as she responded by deepening the kiss. When he felt her just pulling at his lower lip he adjusted, allowing her access. A barely audible moan escaped him.

"No," he said firmly pushing Tara back and jumping to his feet. "There is no emotion, there is peace." He murmured under his breath, turning away from her. "There is no passion, only serenity."

"What's wrong?" Tara's voice was concerned as she approached him. When she extended her hand for his shoulder, he took a step in the opposite direction.

"I'm sorry, Tara. This, this isn't the way of the Jedi. We are told to be wary of attachments." Her brows furrowed, her expression pleading for understanding. "A Jedi shall not know anger, nor hatred," his eyes locked on hers. "nor love."

"So, you feel nothing?"

"It is forbidden," He could not deny his feelings. "The Jedi are too few now for me to give in…" he drifted off into silence, "to choose between the will of the Force and my own wishes."

"What does the Force tell you?" she asked.

"The Force doesn't speak. It just is. It is in everything, surrounding, penetrating, binding. It is in you and me and every other creature in the galaxy. As of late, I feel detached, unable to sense the connection as I was once able to." He ran a hand through his shaggy hair.

"Then," Tara said, "what do you _feel_?"

"I feel lost."

Maris closed his eyes. With deep breaths he shut out the world, focusing only on the light, fluid presence of the Force. He felt his own presence and that of Tara beside him alone in the ship. They were living, breathing, part of the Force and all that is was.

Tara stepped forward and turned Maris's cheek towards her. Rising to the tips of her toes, she kissed his lips once. Then twice. Maris responded with fervor as he wrapped his arms all the way around her thin waist and drew her up to him, smiling into their kiss.

[][][]

Tara did not want to look at the chrono. She so desperately wished she had the power to freeze time and space. Beneath the blankets, she was warm and comfortable lying next to Maris, lying in his arms.

She turned slightly to watch his face, content and lost in sleep. Her gaze traced the small scar on his face that just slightly distorted the dark hairs of his brow. He also had one between the slight cleft of his chin and his full lips, lips swollen by her kisses.

Tara would never have been able to guess at the number of scars the Jedi actually had. When she had first lifted his tunic over his head, her fingers found the ridge that marred the skin between his third and fourth ribs. She had kissed the web of slight pink on his left shoulder blade, the small track on the v-shaped belt of his hips. Just thinking of the feel of him, she again wanted to kiss each mark, take back the suffering that had caused them; but, there was no time.

Hoping for one last moment of selfish comfort, she curled herself against him, slipping her legs between his and resting her head on his chest. She felt Maris wrap an arm around her and pull her even closer until she was atop him. No doubt, he too was plagued by the grounding truth that they could not lie together much longer. They had to return before anyone noticed she had escaped.

Was she really doing this?

Conflicting pains of guilt made her stomach ache. She had captured the Jedi, let him free her and they had made love. Now, she was mentally preparing for when she would return to her captors, most likely, to never see Maris again.

"Mm," the Jedi stirred awake, examining her with his cerulean eyes and she kissed him, confused and unsure about what lay before them.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't until early the next morning that Maris returned to the small quarters given to him by the Commander. The room was his for the duration of his stay at the Rebel base; which, Maris could tell, the Alliance desperately tried to prolong until word came from Commander Skywalker. Maris hoped it would not be long; yet, with safe and comfortable accommodations he was not complaining. He was finally at ease to sit and wait. There was no more running, or hiding, or fighting for his life. At least, for now, he could rest.

With a contented sigh, Maris stared up at the ceiling as he tried to sleep. Everything was better than it had been in such a long time. However, he couldn't even doze as he struggled with a worrying unease.

Tara.

Kissing the pirate had gone directly against the Jedi code. Jedi didn't form attachments. They did not fall in love. Even worse, staying with her until the early hours of the morning had been…

Giving up on sleep, he sat up and ran a hand through his hair, the scent of her still resting so heavily on his senses. Standing, he crossed the room to gaze out of the window. The first rays of crowning sunlight could be seen over Iziz in the distance. So much rested on Maris's shoulders. He was one of the few remaining Jedi and he had failed the Order by rejecting the very commandments by which they had lived for thousands of years.

"_What is troubling you, my boy?" _A voice called to him from the past as he slipped into a meditative state.

"_Nothing in particular,"_ Maris answered, his voice much younger. _"I come here to think."_

"_So do I," Master Kenobi took the seat beside Maris in the darkened planetarium. "This place reminds me of my old master." Maris caught the older Jedi staring longingly at the statue of Qui-Gon Jinn. "He once told me that there is something to be learned in listening to the dark." Maris wondered exactly how one listened to the dark. "A skill, it appears, you have mastered at quite a young age. I often see you here. How old are you now, Maris?"_

"_Almost eleven, sir,"_

"_Ah," chuckled Obi-Wan, "And has a Master taken you on yet?"_

"_No, but the time will come."_

"_The time will come."_

_Neither Jedi spoke, and Maris watched as Mandalore passed over their heads._

"_Do you miss your master?" _

"_Yes, there are always times when I wish he were still alive to give me counsel when I am troubled. You remind me of him."_

"_I do?"_

"_Yes. While the other younglings are out at the training grounds fooling with their lightsabers and throwing each other around, you are in here, learning about other worlds." Obi-Wan gestured to passing Dantooine._

"_Master Jinn was an amazing swordsman."_

"_But he was an even better Jedi. You give the Force your attentions, Maris. You don't allow your focus to drift to the power it gives you." _

_Maris could sense the unrest rolling off the Master. Indeed, he was troubled. It was more than the turbulence of being a general in the war. It was a personal woe. Mairis understood. For years rumors had circulated of Kenobi's padawan, Anakin, the Chosen One. _

_The room fell into complete pitch as the holo projector timed out. Maris stepped out, leaving Master Obi-Wan with his thoughts._

Shaking his head, Maris turned away from the window. He sat, cross-legged on the bed and settled back into the current of the Force.

"_Much too late, it is, for young Jedi to be out of bed. Hmm?" A hoarse, but kind-hearted voice came from Maris's elbow._

"_Master Yoda," Maris immediately stood and bowed to the old Jedi. "I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep."_

"_Mmm, restlessness, it appears, is a trait shared by those of youth and age." The wrinkled Master stared up at him through smiling eyes and laughed wildly, breaking the silence of the large chamber. "What brings you to the Archives?" he asked when the echoes had subsided._

"_I came for information on Master Qui-Gon Jinn, sir." _

"_Qui-Gon?" Yoda's ears perked forward and his eyes widened. Then, his face returned to its stoic resistance. "Walk with me," he grunted slightly and padded off, heavily relying on his cane, "Answer your questions, I will." _

_Maris followed the Grand Master out into the main hall. No one was around and the hall was shrouded in the soft darkness of a peaceful night. For a few paces, they strode in silence, Yoda's huffs and the wooden clicks of his stick the only sounds in the quiet. Young Maris wondered how a being so physically frail could be one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy._

"_I spoke with Master Kenobi in the planetarium today." Maris said. "He was worried. He said he often wished he were able to speak with his master again…for guidance._ _Though he did not say as much, I could sense it was about Master Skywalker and his new padawan. "_

"_Yes," Yoda sighed, his eyes closed with melancholy. "Laden with a heavy burden, Master Kenobi is." Maris did not respond, watching as Yoda opened his eyes and stared up at him. "But, strongly allied with the Force, is he. He does not mourn his old Master, but relies on the Force and his own wisdom to make his decisions. Trust him, we must."_

"_He also said I remind him of Master Jinn."_

"_A true Knight, Qui-Gon was. Forever on his own quest."_

"_He died when I was very young, but I did know it was he who brought Master Skywalker to the temple. He thought him to be the Chosen One, the one from the prophecy that would bring peace. "_

"_And in the time of greatest despair there shall come a savior and he shall be known as the son of suns." Yoda quoted the prophecy solemnly. Maris knew that relations between Jinn and the High Council had been tense. "Much like Qui-Gon, you are." He grinned up at the boy, stopping in the hall and resting both of his hands on his staff. "One with the Living Force. Follow it, and a great Jedi will you become."_

Anakin had not brought peace, Maris thought to himself. Darth Vader now stood, black and menacing, where the Jedi had once held ground. And where were the great masters now?

Rubbing his eyes, Maris tried to find some reason for the Force to send him such visions of the past. Was it to remind him that he had betrayed the Order, that loving Tara was forbidden? He attempted to decipher what exactly Master Yoda had meant. He let his mind wander. Images and senses flooded to him. He saw her stalk down the ramp of the _Paratta_. He saw her whisper tenderly to the astromech. He saw their kiss. And he saw many more.

Maris entertained the premonitions. _There they were at the helm of her ship. She was smiling, he smiled back. He took her into his arms, brushing dark hair out of her lovely face. Then, her grin morphed into an empty expression. Lips slightly parted, face dirty and bruised. He held her limp body and stared into her brown eyes, but she did not see him._

No!

Breathing heavily and feeling clammy, he opened his eyes. No.

_You must be wary when the future calls to you, Maris_. It was not the voice of Obi-Wan or Yoda, but that of Master Aryys. _It will easily lead you astray and into the grasp of fear. Fear is the shadow of the dark side. Nothing is certain. There is only the present. This is the way of the Living Force. Trust in it. Let it guide you._

The Living Force. One night had not doomed the Jedi. Tomorrow would come, but for now, he would sleep.

[][][]

Horrible pounding woke Maris from a deep sleep.

"Ah!" He shot up from the sheets. His neck ached and he struggled to push sleep behind him. He looked around, unsure if the pounding came from somewhere in the room or from within his own head. When his mind had cleared, he realized that the sound actually came from the door.

Rushing over, he thumbed the access pad to reveal a distressed Commander Sol, blaster drawn, shadowed by the tall form of the Corporal.

"Master, Aedann," she breathed heavily, her usually crazed curls were downright ornery, falling out of their tie and cap. "You've been compromised. It's not safe for you here." She stepped through the doorway, crossing the floor to peer out the window at the grounds below. The hall was left in the hands of the Corporal.

"Compromised, Commander?"

"Yes, a small team of Imperial commandos has infiltrated the base." She returned to the center of the dormitory, "Thankfully, there aren't enough to do any real damage, but it is enough,"

"For a search and capture,"

"Or destroy. There's a ship waiting to relocate you. There isn't anywhere for you to go as of yet. You'll jump around hyperspace until we can make contact with Admiral Ackbar and the rest of the fleet."

"They will follow me," Maris told Corinna. A slight pang of guilt slithered through his gut.

"They're chasing us as it is. As long as you're with us, we have a chance," she said, eyes full of hope.

"And the Empire knows it," grinned the Corporal. Maris pushed aside his guilt as he handed him his cloak off of the back of a chair. "Throw on a shirt and grab that lightsaber of yours." They strode back into the hall, Maris soon behind them.

"This way," she called, already jogging down the corridor. Maris drew his lightsaber, igniting the weapon. The blue light emitted from the blade cast an azure glow across his face.

Hustling and feet shuffling, the trio took a hard right. Stormtroopers met them around the corner.

"Not this way!" shouted the Corporal, fiercely sardonic. He fired several shots and the wall of white.

Maris felt the heat as one of the shots from the troopers whizzed past his right shoulder. The next would have reached its target, but with a swipe of the blade, it was sent back into the fray.

"There's another path!" Corinna called out. She had drawn another blaster and was firing with both hands.

Maris spun to the Corporal, "Go, I'll cover you. Shut the blast doors!" Backing slowly, he continued to deflect fire as the Rebels ran back to the main corridor. When he reached them, Corinna was waiting by the door pad to shut the door. After doing so, she fired a shot into the panel.

"Let's go. This way!"

[][][]

Tara had not slept. With a heavy sigh, she stood and paced despondently. She knew it had been several hours since Maris had returned her to her cell, but had no desire for a chrono. At 1800 a transport would dock and, within the subsequent hour, she would be gone, whisked away to face trial in front of Mon Mothma and other Alliance frontrunners.

Had she been in Imperial custody, Tara knew she would not be spared. She could only hope that the Rebels would be more empathetic. But what did freedom matter anymore? Tara pressed her back to the cold wall and slid, collapsed, onto the floor. Even if she was set free by the Alliance, the Empire would find her. There would be bounty hunters and, this time, there would be no fiat.

Another heavy sigh and Tara thought of _The Paratta_. Her last lifeline to the galaxy was gone. The last time she spoke to Spinner, she had told him she would most likely not be returning. She owed Maris for that one last visit.

Where was the Jedi now? Was he still onworld? She was not ready to say goodbye to him, not yet. After their night together, there was still so much left unsaid between them. She wanted to see him again. Being around him, she could feel alive again. She could taste the freedom that made her want to fight and keep fighting. In a way, Tara needed Maris.

But now she sat on the durasteel floor, staring death in the face. She thought of all the star maps she had put together and how they would rot in her desk. What a shame that she would never get to see more of the galaxy.

[][][]

"It's just ahead!" The Commander sprinted the final meters and quickly keyed in the security code to the hangar. Primed and awaiting its passengers, a small transport vessel sat docked beside _The Paratta_.

_WoooooEEEEEE. _A wild screaming droid careened down the ramp of Tara's ship.

"Spinner?" Maris jogged over and knelt beside the astromech.

"Maris, there ISN'T TIME!" Corinna screamed over the sub-light engines from below the transport.

Maris ignored her, "Spinner, what's wrong?"

The droid jabbered back at him, but he could not make sense of it. Spinner spun in urgent circles, but his dome top remained still, watching him. Reaching out with the Force he tried to sense what it was that concerned the droid. In the depths of the Rebel compound, he found it. A great darkness scorched his mind; but, amidst the cloud of the dark side, Maris could feel the light presence of a woman in danger. He recalled the vision from the previous night of lifeless brown eyes.

"Tara!" Spinner beeped in affirmation. He stood. "Don't worry, Spinner." He started back out into the base, sending his voice to her in the force, unsure if she could even sense him. _I'm coming Tara. I'm coming. I won't leave you._

"Are you crazy!?" The Corporal lunged after him, grabbing his forearm. "You can't go back there!"

Sol trotted up to them. "This is suicide. Please don't tell me this is one of your Jedi urges."

"Commander," Maris shook off the Corporal's am. "I don't expect you to understand the Jedi way, or the Living Force, but I _have _to get to her!"

"Her? You mean the Captain?"

"Have you forgotten? She's an Imperial." The Corporal crossed his arms, blonde brows furrowing in frustration. Maris hoped she could not see him, desperately prayed to the Force that she did not know of the night he had spent with the beautiful pirate.

He narrowed his eyes at him. "She's not what you think, not who you think she is. She doesn't deserve this." Maris backed his point with a new sternness in his voice. No one made a move to follow him. "I'm wasting time here. I'm going with," he faced the cross expression of the Corporal, "or without you."

"Fine," Maris heard a loud click to his right. Corinna was snapping new clips into her blasters and loading her holster with two more. She handed a small reel of thermal detonators to the Corporal. "I can see you're determined, Maris; and you're too important to the Rebellion to go alone. You'll be needing back up."

The Corporal said nothing.

"Khev, your support would be appreciated." The tone in her voice did not parallel the cordiality of her words. Still, his reserve melted.

"Fine," he also reloaded his blaster-with much more force than was necessary to insert the magazine. "Might as well take some of them out with us."


	5. Chapter 5

"Where is she?"

"Right this way,"

"But we don't have the codes to unlock the door."

Tara pressed her ear against the durasteel, listening to the commotion going on just on the other side.

"Stand back," a gruff female voice warned the others.

Tara could hear them move away, so she hurriedly backed up a few steps. A violet beam of light pierced the metal where her head had been only moments before. At the base of the blade, the durasteel grew red-hot before spilling off in molten heaps. Slowly, the lightsaber worked its way around in a circle.

"Kick it in," ordered the woman.

Tara ran to the back of her cell. With a thundering crash, the thick slab of door fell to the floor. Two stormtroopes hustled forward, blasters at the ready. Behind them strode a red-headed woman. Tara had seen her before, slinking around at the Emperor's side at various happenings. She sheathed the lightsaber and pulled down the hood of her cowl.

"Captain Nyine,"

"Milady," Tara bowed her head to address the Emperor's hand.

"It seems we've located you just in time." Tara followed the woman's black cloak out of the cell. So, they weren't going to kill her…

"Yes," Tara answered, surprised by her own lack of enthusiasm.

Out in the main foyer of the prison unit, Tara spotted the sentinel slumped against a corner. Blood was beginning to clot from a wound on his forehead. She knew better than to stop their small procession, yet she wished she could take a moment to tend to him. But she now stood on thin ice. If any uncertainties arose as to her loyalties, she would splash into the hot water as a traitor. They continued down the hall until they joined another group of troopers and another Imperial officer whom Tara did not recognize.

"How did you find me?" Tara asked the Hand.

"You have a tracking beacon," the woman replied apathetically, "imbedded in your thigh. When you did not arrive at the rendezvous on Coruscant, it was decided you would be retrieved."

Finally the red-head faced Tara, "A Jedi is too valuable to allow to slip through our fingers."

A flare of panic soared through Tara. She had never known of the beacon. She worried for Maris. Wherever he was, Tara hoped he was safely away. Jade must have sensed as much, for she raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Is there a problem?"

"No," Tara quickly thought of a lie, "I only fear his escape, the Jedi." It had all been her fault. She knew that if Maris were captured, it would be his end. _Please, Please be safe._

"There is nothing to fear. Lord Vader will not allow him to escape."

Tara thought her heart had stopped.

"Lord Vader is here?"

[][][]

Maris continued to combat the dark influences as he ran through the corridors, but the shroud grew heavier with each step. Walking became increasingly difficult as they approached the cell block. Visions flew into Maris's conscious, each a continuation of the dreaded scene from the night before. The visions became more and more real and realistic. Before long, the Jedi could almost feel the wet of tears on his cheeks and the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

"Jedi!" shouted Corinna as his knees buckled. His fingers grabbed for the wall to hold him up. Khev rushed to his side.

"Visions," Maris told them, "from the dark side."

The Corporal's grip tightened on his arm, now restraining him. "What are you talking about?" demanded Khev, worry shining in his dark eyes.

Maris timidly probed the shadowy cloud, searching for the bright spot that was Tara. It flickered in an out around a familiar presence.

"He's here," he gasped, standing with the support of Khev.

"Who's here?"

"Darth Vader."

Corinna gasped. "We can't fight him."

"And you're still going after her?" the Corporal asked.

"I have to."

[][][]

Tara could hear the breathing in the silence of the hallway, before she could see him. Desperately trying to stay calm, she approached the black-clad figure. Standing before the tall, cloaked form of Darth Vader, however, threatened her resolve. With a quick bow, Mara Jade abandoned Tara's side for that of her ominous superior. Tara dropped to her knee.

"Lord Vader."

"Captain Nyine," he began in a deep, techno-assisted voice, "at first, I had uncertainties as to your alliance to the Empire." She resisted the urge to shy away from his obsidian eyes. "Now, I see that those reservations were needless. You have done well."

"Thank you, my lord," Tara felt sick and angered at her own deception. She thought her knees might collapse as she tried to stand.

The black cloak billowed out as Vader placed his fists against his sides. Tara feared he could see through her lie.

"We will have the Jedi and you will have your ship."

"Then you have found the Jedi?" Tara asked taking her place opposite Jade.

"_He_ will come to _us_." Vader looked out and down the empty corridor. "He is near. I can sense it."

As if on cue, Maris stepped around the corner. He was backed by Commander Sol and the young Corporal. Tara thought she heard a hiccup in Darth Vader's breathing, like a sinister chuckle. Her heart fell to her knees. No, Maris! No…

"Darth Vader," said Maris as he ignited the sapphire blade of his weapon. The pirate heard a similar _snap-hiss_ as the Hand did the same. Behind her, the squadron of stormtroopers readied their blasters. Tara forced herself to look ahead, unmoved, the epitome of Imperial resolve.

Maris's eyes met hers.

"Tara?" his lips formed her name. She knew that he had come back for her and here she was at Lord Vader's side. It was a trap.

"ARRRGGHH!"

"Khev, NO!" cried Corinna.

Tara watched in horror as the young Corporal fired shots in to the line of troops.

"Imperial bast-" his battle cry was cut off by a choking sound. He dropped his blaster and his hand went to his throat as he was lifted off the ground.

"Such Rebel insolence will not be tolerated." Vader's arm was outstretched.

"You can kill me," Khev managed to spit, "but the Alliance will never give in." The distance between Darth Vader's fingers lessened and the Corporal's eyes rolled back into his head. He fell to the floor in an unconscious slump. Two troopers stepped forward and dragged him off.

"This is not their fight, Vader." He turned to Corinna. "Run! Get out of here!"

"But, Maris…" she started to back away.

"Just GO!"

The officer fled. Three troopers chased her and shots echoed through the hall.

"Fine," agreed Vader when the hall had fallen into silence. "Leave us," he barked.

Jade switched off her saber and the wall of white filed off, dragging Khev with them. The Privateer was reluctant to follow.

As she passed him, Tara could see the regret in the Jedi's eyes, it mirrored that in her own. Looking straight through her, his gaze held none of the tenderness she saw in their time aboard _The Paratta._ Instead there was sadness and betrayal.

"I trusted you, Tara. I trusted you."

All she wanted to do was run to him, explain the tracking chip, and kiss him one last time. She didn't though. She averted her eyes, avoiding him. Vader would kill him, and she would continue on. Certainly, death would be kinder than this.

[][][]

"It has been a long time," said Vader. "The last I saw of you, Maris Aedann, you were but a boy."

"The last I saw of you, you were Anakin Skywalker," responded Maris tersely.

"That name has no meaning." The Dark Lord shook a fist at Maris. "Anakin Skywalker is dead!"

"Just one of the many Jedi who have fallen victim to the evil that is Darth Vader."

"Soon, you will join them," Vader drew his own lightsaber, thumbing the switch and bringing the red blade to life.

Maris stepped half a meter towards the black figure. He pointed his lightsaber in a salute, clearing his mind, and preparing for the Sith's first attack. It came almost mockingly. One-handed, he knocked the red beam into his blue one and slid it back and forth, challenging. With a quick burst, Maris deflected it and, again, the blades locked.

Maris launched half a dozen quick jabs, each easily deflected. The Dark Lord tried for an overhead attack. Maris pushed back, aiming for the shoulder. The Jedi only managed to singe the edges of the black cloak.

The younger tried for a shot at his opponent's kidneys. Catching his intentions, Darth Vader launched a foot into Maris's chest, sending him tumbling backwards. Quickly, Maris regained himself, charging towards the Sith, blade turning. He launched into a rapid succession of jabs and strokes, pushing Vader back down the corridor. The stronger swordsman of the two, Darth Vader pushed back, driving heavy handed blows which Maris could only dodge. One landed squarely on Maris's saber, pushing the hilt back towards his chest. The blades dangerously nearing his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he pressed back, feeling the heat from the weapons on his face. With a burst of strength, Maris forced Vader back just long enough for him to use the Force and push his body out of the way as the red blade struck the floor.

Standing, Maris made sure to remove himself from Vader's reach. Breathing heavily, he waited.

"I feel your doubt and reserve. You do not trust yourself with the powers of the Force."

"The Force is my ally."

"The words of Master Yoda," Vader rotated his wrist, swinging the blade of his lightsaber so as to create a blur of light. "Nearly two decades, and you still cling to the teachings of the Old Order." He came a step closer to Maris, but switched off his sword. "There is great knowledge to be learned at my side."

"You mean the dark side,"

Darth Vader halfway nodded. "There are things the Jedi could never have taught you."

"The dark side is built on lies and false promises," shouted Maris, "betrayal!"

"I sense much fear in you, Maris. You fear for your new Rebel friends. You fear for…" Vader's helmet shifted as if to hear something in the distance "you fear for the Privateer." He laughed, stretching out the mention of Tara. "Your emotions betray you, young Jedi," said Darth Vader "They deceive you. Because of this, you are mine."

"I will never be yours!" Maris searched for solid ground, clinging to any rays of hope and lightness he could. Vader was testing him, stretching his will and trust in the light side of the Force. He was using his feeling for Tara as leverage, and Maris had given them to him.

"It is the only way," Darth Vader began, raising a gloved hand, "you will see her again." His voice lost its persuasive tone and became harsh. Lighting sprung from his fingertips, striking Maris's body.

Every nerve ending was burning with a fire Maris could not put out. He struggled against it, but Vader was too strong. The Jedi fell to his knees before the Sith Lord. He cringed in pain. Shocks of electricity charged his tissue, singed his flesh. Maris cried out in agony, wishing it would only end, but knowing he must not give in to the will of the dark side. His body convulsed. His muscles clenched and his lungs gasped for cool air.

Then it stopped.

Maris could not get up; he forced his head up to look at Vader, only managing to allow his head roll to rest on hunched shoulders, Maris glared with defiance into the mechanical eyes, trying to see past them to Anakin Skywalker. The power of the Force was on his side, Vader would not beat him.

The pain came again. And again.

Maris could no longer lift his head. He fought against the darkness of unconsciousness, forcing his eyelids open.

"As of now," Vader spoke down to him, "your life and the life of the Captain lie at the mercy of the Emperor. I can assure you, he will not be as understanding as I am." Vader's voice was full of sorrow and remorse.

Maris let his eyes close. He drifted off into a fog of uncertainty.


	6. Chapter 6

"It is good to see you back, Captain Nyine." Said the Moff as he took a seat behind his desk.

"Good to be back, sir."

"Mmm," the Moff eyed her suspiciously. She kept her face solid but knew her thoughts were safe. The Moff had no Jedi mind tricks. He pulled up a file on a data pad.

"So, it was true. You did manage to secure a Jedi."

"Yessir," Strange, thought Tara, how pale her simple affirmation seemed before the full account of the last few days.

"Such work is commendable. I want you to know," he looked up at her, "I've increased your fuel quotas dramatically and given you access to funds that shall allow you to continue such performance." Tara could have hit him.

"My charter then, is it not-"

"No. Most definitely not. Your stunt did require a rescue operation. Valuable resources were spent on pulling you out of that Rebel prison. We are not foolish enough to attack such a well-supplied fortress as Jyrenne base, especially when Iziz is sympathetic to the Rebel cause! Your charter will not be revoked." His voice was no longer proud, but stern and commanding.

"You, Tara Nyine, are a liability to the Empire. As we all know, the spirit of rebellion can be quite…infectious," he hissed, eying her as if she were wearing the scarlet badge of a traitor.

Tara's heart plummeted from her chest to her boots. She would not have her freedom. The Emperor had Maris and still, he had her. She was a slave, a prisoner tied with invisible chains to the Moff, to the Empire.

"I understand," she said solemnly.

"I'm glad to hear so."

"Will that be all?"

"No," he set his meaty elbows on the desk, "because you have allowed for the arrest of such a figure as a Jedi Knight, I am extending to you an invitation to tomorrow night's gala in honor of the Death Star rebuild. I understand it is short-notice but you can still manage."

"Of course. I consider it an honor."

"Good." He reached across the table and they shook hands. Tara, fuming, took her leave.

[][][]

Tara cursed and stuck her bleeding thumb into her mouth. Her father had always told her to wear gloves and she had spent enough time in the shipyards to have such a small safety precaution ingrained into her brain. But she had not worn gloves. Distracted, she guessed. She threw her hydrospanner into the tool box as Spinner whirred beside her.

"I'm fine," she told the droid. "Just," she sighed, "frustrated."

"Understandable," Tara followed a pair of boots up to the green eyes of Mara Jade. She immediately stood for her superior. "Please," said the Hand with a raised palm. "I'm not here for business."

Tara was confused, "No?"

"No," confirmed Mara. "Let's talk." She started off towards _The Paratta._

Inside, Tara kept a wary eye on the other woman as she scrutinized her ship. She hated Imperials on her deck.

"If you're not here for business, why are you here?" Tara demanded, knowing that her tone was unacceptable to use with a superior officer.

"Pleasure," said Jade and slapped a holoproj onto the table. Tara picked it up.

"Mobius chess?"

"Yes, I believe Sabaac is the preferred game of smugglers, but I prefer a game that is not up to chance, but to wit. I noticed you didn't have a board installed, so I took the liberty of bringing my own." Jade finally spun to face her, a surprisingly mischievous grin on her face. The privateer was onto her ploy and activated the board. The colorful pieces spread to their places over the table.

"What are the stakes?"

"Should I win, I get your ship." She stroked the bulkhead lovingly, "Because, you will be arrested for involvement with the Rebel Alliance."

Thankfully, Tara was able to contain her gasp. The Hand seemed to read her thoughts. She knew of her hatred of the Empire, of her relations with the Moff, of her affection for Maris, an insurgent. She remembered the violet lightsaber. What mystical powers did the Emperor's Hand possess? Was she also involved with the same Force to which Maris had devoted his whole life?

"And if I should win?" She asked, untrusting.

"I will take you to see the Jedi."

"He's alive?" Hope pushed her blood a little faster in her veins.

Mara nodded. "For the moment. The Emperor and Lord Vader are preoccupied with the completion of a second Death Star." Tara shivered. Another Death Star, another vehicle for murder…Certainly, there could be no flaws this time, not like before. "It will be a week or so before Aedann will be interrogated and-"

"Executed."

Mara nodded, "Thus, in his absence, I am in charge of the Jedi's fate. You will never see him again without my help."

A long pause then the Hand spoke again, "He will die you know."

"I don't understand," said Tara, "why?"

Mara Jade only grinned a sad smile, "Shall we play?"

"I've already gone," Tara crossed her arms pointing with a nod at the board. "It's your move."

[][][]

Maris woke again from a nightmare. Dark eyes and lifeless lips haunted him. The scorn of the Jedi order followed him. In a moment of weakness he rolled over and reached to pull Tara closer to him. For, if she were in his arms, he knew she was safe and the protests of his Jedi past momentarily died away.

His arm only touched cold durasteel.

Fully awake, he groaned and rubbed the sleep and nightmares from his eyes. These dreams never left him rested. He so yearned to repeat that night he spent with Tara. He wished he could once again feel the soft petals of her lips against his and inhale the sweet floral scent of her soft hair.

But he would be lying with a liar, a seductress.

"Hey,"

"Khev?" Maris could not see the Corporal in the cell to his right, but he could hear his voice. "Are you alright? Where is Commander Sol?"

"I'm fine, throat hurts a little. Corinna's a big girl. Wherever she is, she can handle herself." The Jedi noticed that the Corporal spoke of the Rebel officer with a particular tenderness.

"I'm sorry, Khev." Maris battled his guilt, "I should never have gone after her."

"She's an Imperial, Aedann. It isn't your fault. They can't be trusted."

Maris sighed. He thought Tara was different. He had sensed in her a certain good, a light that he rarely found amongst the indoctrinated Imperial officers. Perhaps, he had simply spent too many years alone, too many years away from the teachings of his masters.

At the end of the hall a door whooshed open and The Emperor's Hand stepped into the cell block. Maris stood, taking a defensive stance. Instinctively, he reached to his hip for his lightsaber. This time, however, he was helpless to whatever the Hand had in store for him.

"I can only give you a few minutes," she whispered to someone hidden from Maris's view. A set of bootheels approached Maris's cell. His heart thundered in his chest.

Tara stood before him. He refused to look at her. When she said his name, however, he forgot his anger and faced her. Then he remembered her betrayal. Instantly, his gaze hardened into a glare.

"I trusted you," he growled just as he had the last time he had seen her. He saw that it hurt her and was glad.

No.

This was not the Jedi way. He instantly chastised himself for allowing himself to become so callous. He also knew there was no place for attachment in the Jedi order. He prayed for stoicism. Still, the hurt made his gut turn over.

"Why have you come?"

"I," she began, voice wavering. "You will die, Maris." She held her hand a few millimeters from the force field that trapped him. "Vader will torture you. Then, he will kill you." _There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no passion, there is serenity._

"Did you get your ship?"

"Maris," her brows furrowed in frustrated pain as she sighed his name.

Though he would have died then just for the chance to hold her, he met her protests with indifference.

"Why are you here?" he asked again.

"It seems," Mara Jade came to stand beside her. "Nyine knows her way around a Mobiüs chess board." A strange smile crept on to the lips of Mara Jade. "I had underestimated the Captain as a strategist." She said as her eyes narrowed. "A mistake I will not make again." She turned to Tara, "It's time."

"I've got nothing left to lose anymore," Tara breathed so only he could hear. He watched a tear fall down her face as she followed Jade out of the cell block. The blast door shut loudly behind them.

"Chess?" the Jedi heard Khev mutter, "Corinna must've taught her."

"What?"

"Didn't you know that Tara underwent her military rehabilitation while Corinna was a cadet? In the Imperial Academy, before she went rogue, Corinna was undefeated in Mobiüs Chess. Still is."

"I don't understand," Maris spoke up, "how you and the Commander came to be so close."

"I played her once," Khev continued. "Back on Dantooine, I was working in the grain fields with my brother. Imperial troops approached us, demanding to be quartered in our houses, fed bread from our harvest. Before long, word of the Rebellion reached us. My brother decided to lead an uprising. His militia was cut down and most of the farms burnt to ashes. I survived the bloodbath and was put before their leader, a young lieutenant, Corinna Sol. She gave me one chance to live. I would have to defeat her in chess." His voice lowered, "That was the mindset of an Imperial. Dominate in any way possible. I lost. But Corinna was never much of an Imp."

Maris considered this. What had Tara bet, what had she risked to see him? He knew the only bargaining chip the pirate held was her ship, her freedom.

_We've all lost something to the Empire._

How could he have been so blind? Maris understood now. He wanted to scream with the knowledge that he would never see Tara again and never get the chance to apologize. The Jedi would never be able to tell her that he loved her.


End file.
